Wednesday, May 31, 2017

The
Book Junkie Reads . . . Review of . . . THE HIGHLANDER’S LADY (Stolen Bride,
#3) . . .Myra
had the world put upon her shoulders with just one night of events that changed
it all. She was now the laird of her clan and charged with the safety of her sister-in-law
and her unborn babe and to delivery a very important message. Things almost
begin to look up for her. She had released the care of her sister-in-law to
people that could be trusted and was now on her way. She did what had to be
done to make sure that message was delivered. Myra was strong, determined and a
bit impulsive. Some of her honed talents over the years come in handy for her
to do all she had set before her to accomplish.

Daniel was not what she was expecting.
Nor was she what he was expecting but somehow, they made it work. The love that
came out of it was more than anticipated by either party. With the peril around
each turn, not knowing who can be trusted makes the journey that much more
dangerous. Once in supposed safety things are not as safe as the should be.
There was still danger known and unknown.

Daniel indeed gets his wife and Myra
indeed must lead a clan but the work they do together makes it worth the
sacrifice they each must make. Myra was the exact opposite of everything that
Daniel thought he wanted in a biddable wife. That was all good because Eliza
Knight makes it all work just well together in this highland adventure.
Sometimes a highland man just needs to meet his match.

Laird Daniel Murray seeks adventure, battle and
freedom for his countrymen. Putting off his duties as laird—with a promise to
his clan he’ll return come spring—Daniel sets off with his men to fight
alongside William Wallace and the Bruce. But soon he stumbles across an
enchanting lady in need. She tantalizes him with an offer he simply can’t
refuse and a desire he attempts to dismiss.

A lady’s passion ignited…

Escaping near death at the treacherous hands of a
nearby clan, Lady Myra must find the Bruce and relay the news of an enemy
within his own camp. Alone in a world full of danger and the future of her clan
at stake, she must trust the handsome, charismatic Highland laird who promises
to keep her safe on her journey—and sets her heart to pounding.

Together, Daniel and Myra will risk not only their
lives, but their hearts while discovering the true meaning of hope and love in
a world fraught with unrest.

Early December

Highlands, 1297

A loud crash sounded from below stairs,
startling Lady Myra from her prayers. What in all of heaven was that?

She’d been sequestered in the chapel for
most of the morning—penance for her latest bout of eavesdropping.

The chapel was dark, lit only by a few
candles upon the altar. A fierce winter gust blew open the shudders, causing the
candle flames to waver. Myra rushed to the windows, securing the shudders once
more, feeling the wood rattle against her fingertips.

Her stomach muscles tightened with
unease. There were not often sounds like this at Foulis. In fact, she’d never
heard such before.

The very floors seemed to shake.
Imagination going wild, she pictured the boards beneath her feet splintering
and falling through to the great hall below.

Myra kept a keen ear, waiting for a sign
that would reassure her that nothing was amiss. For once she hoped to hear her
older brother, Laird Munro, railing at the clumsy servant who’d dropped
something, but there was nothing save an eerie silence. The hair along her neck
rose and with it, her skin prickled as an acute sense of dread enveloped her.

The castle was never this silent.

“Astrid?” she called out to her maid—but
there was no reply. Not even the scurrying of her servant’s feet across the
floor. Where had the maid gone? She was supposed to wait for Myra outside the
chapel door. “Astrid!” she called a little louder this time, but still there
was no reply.

’Twas as if she were alone, but that
made no sense. Foulis Castle was always bustling with people. Unable to stand
the silence, Myra scrambled to her feet. She lit a tallow candle by the hearth
to light her way in the darkened corridor and slowly crept toward the door of
the family chapel. Nothing but a whisper of a breeze from her gown disturbed
the areas where she passed—’twas how she was able to eavesdrop so often. Locked
away, supposedly for her own good, since she was a girl, she learned an
important lesson. If she were to find out anything of import, she had to be
secretive and slick, so she learned to creep.

She did so now with practiced ease,
sidestepping boards known to creak and pausing every few moments to listen for
sounds. She strained to hear a whisper, someone’s breathing, anything that
would assure her that she had in fact let her imagination get the best of her.
But there was nothing.

Fighting hard to keep the fear from suffocating
her, she reached the door, and with tortured slowness gripped the cool iron
handle. She wanted to throw it open, and ignore the dread that held her hand
still. But she had to trust her instincts. Something was terribly wrong. She
could feel it. Myra leaned in close, pressing her ear to the frozen wood. She
remained motionless, listening. Again silence. Satisfied there was no imminent
threat, she began to open the door. An earth shattering shriek and another loud
crash broke the silence. Myra slammed the door. Was that…? She shook her head.
It couldn’t be. Scrambling away from the door, she dropped her candle which
snuffed itself out. God’s teeth! Was that a battle cry? Granted, she’d never
heard one before, but ’twas not just any shout. Nay, this sound was terrifying.
A cry that sent her knees to shaking and her lip to bleeding from biting it so
hard.

She could barely see, the candles at the
altar weren’t putting off enough light. What in blazes was she supposed to do?
How would she protect herself? Damn those guards. Why hadn’t there been any
warning? Shouts of caution. Why hadn’t the gates been closed?

Was it possible that she’d just not
heard the warnings? She had been deep in prayer, worrying about her sore knees,
and to add insult to injury she’d needed to use the privy for hours. Had she
been that preoccupied?

Angered? So distracted that if someone
had shouted in her ear she probably wouldn’t have heard it? She took a deep
breath to figure out her next course of action.

The secret stairways! Lucky for her, the
chapel was located in a tiny corridor off the gallery above the great hall. A
hidden stair, inside the chapel, led up to the master’s chamber. Embarrassed
after her penances—which were often, Myra chose not to venture into the great
hall, instead she preferred to use the hidden stairs. She knew them well. All
of them. When she was just a girl, her father had shown her where they were
located, and when she’d once found them fun, she now found comfort in their
obscurity. Now they would not only help hide her embarrassment but they might
even save her life.

Author Info

Eliza Knight is a USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author of sizzling historical romance and time-travel erotic romance. Under the name E. Knight, she pens riveting historical fiction. She runs the award-winning blog, History Undressed. When not reading, writing and researching, she likes to cuddle up in front of a warm fire with her own knight in shining armor.

I have read one book thus far and the review
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